Kitchen Duty
by HopelessRomantic79
Summary: Hermione and Ron move beyond "just friends." Post-DH, Pre-Epilogue. Canon.
1. The Beginning

**A/N: Thanks so much to BlackHawk13 for being my super efficient beta!!! :-D **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.**

Hermione studied at the cookbook as if it were a potion text book before a NEWTs final. Ingredients were spilled across the counter, and flour coated the front of her apron. Her hair was impossibly frizzy, thanks to the heat from the stovetop and the summer sun outside. Several pots angrily boiled on the stove, and there was the distinct scent of smoke permeating the air.

_Has to be perfect, _Hermione thought desperately. Hermione knew she was a miserable cook. But ever since the final battle, Mrs. Weasley hadn't exactly felt up to her usual masterpieces in the kitchen. Hermione had taken it upon herself to try to help, but like it was today, it wasn't working out so well.

Tonight she was attempting Shepherd's pie. If it weren't bad enough, she was also making the meal for ten.

It was in this harried state that Ron found her. She looked as if she were about to cry, her hair flying about her face as if she were mad.

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

"I'm cooking, Ronald, can't you see that?"

Her tone was brisk and biting. He had to hold back a laugh. "I see that you're wearing more food than anything else."

She whirled around, wooden spoon in her hand, tears in her eyes. "I don't need you to point out all that I'm doing wrong, Ronald. I just can't take it…" She punctuated each word with a jab of the spoon, and turned back around before he could see her tears fall. She brushed them away angrily with the back of her arm, and began furiously stirring the contents of her bowl. Ron covered her hand with his, stilling her hand.

"Hermione. Stop," he said in a soothing voice. Her body, so tense before, relaxed slightly at his touch. It had been several weeks since The Kiss, but neither had found the time nor the right moment to address it. It had been wholly inappropriate to start a relationship when there were people to be buried and wounds to be healed. The physical wounds were mostly gone, but the emotional scars would probably never go away.

Still, the tension between Ron and Hermione persisted, intensified by the fact that they found themselves alone for the first time in a long while, and that Ron hadn't removed his hand from hers. Their eyes met, and they both froze. The air was thick with tension, and Ron could feel Hermione's pulse thrumming in her wrist. His matched the same frantic pace.

Hermione parted her lips, as if to say something, but then looked away. Ron felt a flush of disappointment, and released her hand. She continued stirring, looking down. Her busy hair provided a curtain between them, and Ron couldn't read her expression.

He cleared his throat. "Need some help?" he offered.

Hermione looked up and shot him a grateful look. "Yes, thank you. Could you please mind the pots on the stove? Here," she said, thrusting a spoon at Ron.

They cooked in relative silence, Ron only breaking the calm with brief swears as he burned his thumb or splashed boiling water on himself. Hermione felt nervous around Ron, as he felt towards her. Neither wanted to make a move, or be the one to broach the topic of those moments in the Room of Requirement.

Before they knew it, supper was finished, and with a few waves of their wands, the kitchen was clean once more. Hermione sent Ron to get everyone for supper, and she set the table with another flick of her wand. Harry and Ginny appeared soon, followed by George and Percy, Fleur and Bill, and the Weasley parents.

Dinner was relatively quiet, despite Ginny's attempts at humor, but there was still the underlying sorrow that still refused to go away. Ron sat next to Hermione, their shoulders brushing every once in a while. They darted nervous smiles at each other, both silently loving the brief contact. Mrs. Weasley was mostly silent, and finished her meal quickly. On her way out, she patted Hermione on the cheek, saying "Thank you dear. That was delicious." Then she disappeared upstairs.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all exchanged a long look. It was difficult to watch Mrs. Weasley mourn. They all felt the pain of losing Fred, but Mrs. Weasley, George and Percy were the ones most deeply affected, each shouldering their own versions of grief, guilt and remorse.

Everyone eventually excused themselves, leaving Hermione and Ron alone once again in the kitchen. The tension was back in the air. Hermione felt it in the pit of her stomach. With the others around, it was easy to forget, or at least ignore, how she felt about Ron. But when she was alone, when they were alone, she couldn't think of anything else.

She busied herself with carrying dishes to the sink, and filling it with warm, sudsy water. Tonight she was going to hand wash the dishes. She needed to vent out her frustration and stress, and manual, Muggle labor always seemed to help her.

Ron silently joined her, rinsing and drying the dishes. Both felt the need to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come out. His thoughts were clouded with doubts and irrational fears. Yes, she had kissed him enthusiastically, blushed in his arms. Yes, there had been hints, clues, downright obvious moments where it seemed like Hermione felt the same as he did. But still, his lingering fears about everything from Viktor Krum to his spontaneous abandonment during the Horcrux search had him wondering if she really could feel the… love… he felt for her.

Her thoughts were no better. She felt an ache in her chest which worsened each moment she stood next to him without saying a word. Hermione desperately wanted to whirl around, ask him what he had thought of the kiss. Maybe he had just kissed her back because they could have died at any moment. Maybe he would have kissed anyone in that moment. Maybe…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the clearing of Ron's throat. She looked up, startled from the silence, and gazed into his clear blue eyes. He was staring at her with a strange expression, one she couldn't quite read.

"Hermione," he started. "We have to talk." Hermione's heart leapt, but she pretended not to know why.

"About what?" she asked quietly, concentrating on cleaning a particularly bad spot on one of the plates.

"About us," Ron said just as quietly. "About… you know… the… our…" His face was scarlet. "About our _kiss._" He said the last word almost as a whisper.

"Right," said Hermione, feeling herself blush.

"Hermione. Please look at me." Ron grabbed her wrist, turning her towards him. They both felt jolts of heat run through their bodies. "Please don't tell me it didn't mean anything."

"Of course it didn't. I mean, it did, I mean…" Hermione briefly closed her eyes, and gave a short sigh. She looked back into Ron's eyes, and saw the fear and doubt reflected in them. Somehow she found the Gryffindor courage to speak from her heart. "Ron, it meant everything." Her voice was so tiny, he was afraid he hadn't heard her correctly.

"What?" he asked, wanting to hear the words again, make sure that he hadn't imagined it.

"It meant everything," she said in a stronger voice. She took a deep breath, and looked up at him again. She was surprised and thrilled to see a look of pure bliss and happiness on Ron's face.

"It meant everything to me, too. Hermione, it was the only thing that kept me going."

She smiled sweetly. "I know the feeling."

They stared into each other's eyes, gravitating towards each other until Hermione found herself in Ron's arms without feeling as if she'd moved at all. Both ignored the fact that their hands were covered in soapy water. Her hands slid up to his broad shoulders while his hands found the curves of her waist. He pulled her close to him, feeling her against him, for the first time truly. It shocked him how well they fit together, as if they were made to hold each other this way.

Hermione was finding it hard to breathe. It felt too good, his strong arms holding her. Her heart was pounding, so loudly in her ears she was sure Ron could also hear it.

"Hermione," Ron said huskily, the sound thrilling her. "I really want to kiss you. Is that OK?"

"Yes, it's more than OK," she replied softly.

Ron leaned forward, slightly terrified, but more than motivated to make the move to Hermione's mouth. His lips met hers hesitantly, making sure it was really what she wanted. When her mouth moved eagerly against his, he matched her enthusiasm, hopefully running his tongue along the seam of her lips. She granted him access and his world tilted on its axis as he tasted her.

One hand found itself in her crazy hair, the other wound more tightly around her waist and he dragged his mouth across hers. She was sighing and whimpering, threading her fingers into his ginger locks. The kiss was heated and growing in urgency.

Hermione finally pulled back, gasping for air. Ron was also taking deep breaths, his cheeks and ears flushed red. Hermione observed how his hair was standing on end from her fingers, how his mouth was slightly swollen, his blue eyes dark and hazy with what she hoped was lust. She shivered, knowing she and she alone had put him in such a state.

"Hermione, I can't be your friend anymore." Her stomach suddenly dropped, pain seared in her chest.

"What?" she asked, more loudly than she had anticipated. "What do you mean, Ron, we have to be friends, I need you in my life, I-"

"I can't be your friend because I want more… I want to be your boyfriend."

Her mouth dropped open in shock and relief. "I would love nothing more," she said, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

His face lit up with excitement. "So… so you'll be my girlfriend?"

"Of course," she said, and kissed him again to seal the promise.

**A/N II: I'm thinking of making this into a story. Let me know if that's something you'd like to see. :-)**


	2. Confessions

**A/N: So, I'm going to make this a series of connected one-shots all set in and around the kitchen. Just cuz I'm cute like that. ;-) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP. That'd be pretty read if I did. More than rad.**

A sob escaped Hermione as she buried her face in her folded arms. She sat alone in the Weasley's kitchen, trying to compose herself somehow, but finding it nearly impossible.

Most of the time, she was able to keep her emotions in. Harry and the Weasley's needed strength, solidarity, not a weak friend who couldn't keep from crying at any moment. She fought to steady her breathing, to clear her mind from the dark images that sometimes bombarded her. She wiped away her tears on the back of her sweater.

She startled slightly when she felt a strong, warm hand rubbing her back. She whirled around and saw Ron there, his blue eyes filled with concern. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

She melted into his touch, and flung herself around him. "It's nothing."

"No it isn't. What's wrong?"

"Just remembering. Everything."

"I know what you mean. Sometimes it's all I can think of. Fred especially."

They simply held each other for a long time. Hermione marveled at how Ron had grown over the last few years, how he was a man now and not a boy. How deeply she loved him, each day more than the day before. They still hadn't exchanged the words, but they both felt it.

"Hermione, I want to show you something." Hermione looked at Ron with curiosity as she pulled herself away from his embrace.

"What is it?"

Ron pulled out a tattered looking leather book. "I've had it since I was a kid. I barely wrote in it, you know, I mean, only girls write in diaries. Girls and poofs."

Hermione rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh. "Voldemort had a diary."

"Yeah. Total poof."

Hermione burst into laughter, despite herself.

"Anyway, I wrote in this." Ron flushed with embarrassment. "After I left." Neither one of them had to say anything to know what he meant. "I wanted to show you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

She gingerly opened the front cover, and found Ron's messy scrawl there.

_21/12/97_

_I have made the biggest mistake of my life. I'm worse than a git, worse than an arse. Is 'traitor' a big enough word? I abandoned my best friends because I'm selfish. _

_Worse than leaving Harry, I left Hermione. She cried, begged me. And I left anyway._

_22/12/97_

_Feel worse today. Bill is ignoring me for being an idiot, and Fleur is being too nice. I've stayed in my room because I can't take it anymore._

_I miss Hermione._

_23/12/97_

_I hate myself. I need Hermione. Why didn't I realize it before it was too late? What if something has happened to them? To her? _

_24/12/97_

_It's Christmas Eve. I haven't felt this miserable since the Yule Ball. And I'd relive that a million times over if it meant I could be with her again._

Hermione kept reading, each entry growing more and more desperate, more self loathing, more depressed. Her eyes filled with tears. "Ron…" she said softly. A tear slipped down her cheek.

"No, don't cry! I didn't mean for you to cry. I showed you this… so you'd know how I felt about you, then and now. Blimey, I can't do anything right. Hermione, I was… trying to show you how much I love you."

Her face went from utter sadness to pure joy in an instant. "W-what?"

"I love you, Hermione."

She slapped him hard across the arm. "You git! You absolute git! You tell me you love me right after you make me cry! That is so typical of you, I can't believe you'd do this to me, I can't believe I'd fall in love with such an insensitive-"

"You love me?" Ron eyes were amused and hopeful more than anything else.

"Of course I love you, you idiot!" She burst into tears again, this time tears of happiness, though Ron did not catch on right away.

"Hermione, it's OK! I'm sorry… Bloody Hell, I'm such an idiot… Hermione, please…" He sounded desperate.

"Say it again."

"I'm… sorry?"

"No! Tell me you love me."

"Only if you'll say the same."

"Deal."

"Hermione, I love you."

"And I love you, Ron."

He let out a laugh of relief, and pulled Hermione to him once more, kissing her soundly. She sighed and ran her fingers through his ginger hair, pulling him infinitely more closely to her. They were caught up in each other, finally confessing the words they had been trying to tell each other for years.

They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn't see another redhead enter the kitchen, his eyes wide as saucers as he took in the sight of Ron and Hermione snogging at the table.

George pulled back a chair noisily, and watched in amusement as the two broke apart, looking dazed.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" he asked innocently, batting his eyes.

Ron turned bright red. Hermione looked down at her hands in front of her, suddenly very interested in her fingernails.

"Go away, George. This is none of your business," Ron said fiercely.

"Well pardon me for interrupting your moment in the middle of a public room anyone could have walked through." George smiled. This was the best he'd felt in a long time.

"Ron, we should just…" Hermione stood, holding her hand out to him. He took it, and they walked out of the kitchen, redfaced, knowing that George would find ways to mock them later. Neither minded.


	3. Need

**A/N: This is short, and hasn't been beta-ed, but I really wanted to get this up for you guys, you've been so patient!!! Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed. :-) What did you guys think about the movie? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor any of the brilliant characters from JKR's universe. Dang.**

Hermione moaned as Ron enticed her tongue into his mouth. She was feverish, her body completely melting; her knees were beginning to weaken. She clutched at his shoulders, pulling him closer and trying to hold herself up. His arms tightened around her, one sliding dangerously low to her arse. He nibbled at her bottom lip, soothing the tiny bites with his tongue. She whimpered as each kiss became more and more essential. There was nothing in this world but Ron's kisses, nothing beyond their passionate embrace. They were each other's entire world.

It had been like this for several weeks. Each time, it got harder and harder to pull away. Self control was hanging by a thread.

This night, they had rendezvoused in the Burrow's kitchen, which had, inexplicably, become their sanctuary. Harry and Ginny, their respective roommates, had an idea of what was going on between Ron and Hermione, but hadn't broached the topic. They themselves were probably having secret meetings of their own. Neither couple thought it was appropriate to showcase their newfound happiness with the rest of the family, though Ron and Hermione were becoming less cautious after being caught by George. By some miracle, he had kept his mouth shut about them around the Weasley's, only bringing up the most barest of hints at the table.

Ron began placing kisses up and down the column of Hermione's neck. "Oh, Ron," she whispered shakily. Her entire body was aching with need. He backed her into the counter, and she felt his hardness brush against her stomach. She gasped. Usually when they snogged, he kept his hips well away from hers, and now she knew why. The ache in the pit of her stomach grew, and it shook her literally to her core.

"Ron," she whimpered. "I-" He cut her off with another breathtaking kiss, rendering her speechless when he pulled away again. His eyes were nearly black with desire, small rims of dark blue still showing. His mouth was red and swollen from their infinite kisses, his red hair rumpled from her hands. His cheeks and ears were on fire, and he was panting.

He was the epitome of sex. It thrilled and terrified her. Was she ready? Certain parts of her body screamed "Yes!" She felt like she was going to explode from the pressure and pleasure coursing through her body. She wanted to throw caution to the wind, to throw all reason away and simply take what she wanted. What she needed. Ron.

"Ron, I think we should stop now," Hermione whispered, hating herself for it. "This feels too good." She blushed, something she wasn't accustomed to.

"I know we should," he whispered back. "It's just so hard to stop. I love you, I want to be with you… Bloody hell, Hermione, this is torture." He leaned his forehead against hers.

"I know. Believe me, I want this. I just don't think we're ready."

"Yeah."

They both fought to keep their hormones in check. Ron kissed her once, chastely, and pulled away. Hermione moaned at the loss of contact. It was so cold without Ron.

He held his hand out to her, and she took it. He guided her up the stairs, and all she could do was wish he were taking her to his bed. _Not yet, _she told herself. They had a lot of growing to do. It wouldn't be right to rush into intimacy before they were ready. When they finally took that final step, she knew it would be forever, and it had to be perfect, it had to be right.

They reached Ginny's bedroom, where Hermione slept. Ron gathered her back into his arms, and pulled her in for another sweet, lingering kiss. They both felt the ache intensify, and pulled away reluctantly. A million tiny kisses later, and Ron was pulling away again.

"G'night, 'Mione," he said, walking towards his and Harry's room. Hermione couldn't help but notice the front of his pajamas were tented, and she had to restrain herself from running back to him, to doing things with him she didn't even know how to do yet. As it was, she whimpered, and Ron's ears went from red to nearly purple with embarrassment.

"Good night, Ron," Hermione said huskily. She closed to door behind her, still shaky and filled with want and need. She swore silently to herself, and cast a quick silencing charm from Ginny's ears. She had something to attend to that she didn't want her female best friend overhearing.


	4. Decisions

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. I really appreciate it!!! Thanks as always to BlackHawk13 for checking it over for me. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own HP, not now, not ever.**

Ron was making himself a ham sandwich when George cornered him.

"So… you and Hermione, huh?"

"Yeah…" He felt his ears turn a traitorous shade of red.

"Little brother, I'm proud of you. It's about time, I say."

"Whadda-you mean?"

George stared at him like he was mad. "You two have fancied each other for years. It was obvious to everyone but you two. Which is why I find it astounding no one else has noticed the two of you sneaking around here."

Ron blushed even harder. "We're not sneaking," he muttered, even though he knew it was a lie. George just looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"So, little brother, how is it?"

"How's WHAT?" he growled. Ron knew what was coming, and he wasn't ready to talk about it.

"You know," George said with a smirk. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Ron flipped him the bird.

"Shut the hell up, George."

"Why, little brother, could it be that you and Miss Granger haven't quite _sealed the deal?_"

Ron came very close to punching George in the face, but decided it probably wouldn't be worth his mum's wrath later. Instead, he gritted his teeth and turned back to making his sandwich, ignoring George, who was standing with his arms crossed, watching Ron's ears turn nearly purple with embarrassment. He knew his presence would annoy Ron more than any words at that moment.

Ron felt the blood rush through his ears, muffling any outside sound. He didn't need George taking the mickey out of him for something he was already on edge about.

It was at that moment Hermione chose to stroll into the kitchen, grabbing a homemade pumpkin pasty off a plate on the table. Mrs. Weasley was finally getting back into her old routine in the kitchen, much to the family's relief. Hermione could never quite replicate the matriarch's flair in the kitchen, despite time and her best efforts. She took a bite into the flaky crust, unaware of the tension rolling off Ron.

"Hello there, Hermione," George said with a devious grin. "How's your day?"

"Excellent, thanks George," she beamed, taking another full bite of pasty.

"Hermione, did you know that the scent of pumpkin is a natural aphrodisiac?" George asked innocently. Hermione choked on her mouthful, and Ron clenched his fists. George simply grinned as he watched their individual reactions. Both seemed embarrassed, Hermione turning shy and Ron filling with rage.

"Just something to think about," George said, and swiped an apple off the counter, whistling to himself as he sauntered out of the kitchen.

"I'm gunna kill him," Ron muttered.

"At least he's more like himself now. I'd honestly rather him tease us than be so sad about…"

"Yeah, I know. But still… Bloody idiot." He was still seething.

Hermione reached out for his hand, rubbing soothing circles over his palm. "It's OK, Ron." She ran her other hand through his thick red hair. He pulled her into a tight embrace, running his fingers along her cheek and jaw, relaxing at the feel of her body against his. She leaned into his touch, relishing the way his rough fingers traced her face, memorizing her.

"Hermione… It's OK that we haven't… you know… right?"

She kissed him lightly. "Of course it is," she said, but she sighed softly. She wound her arms around his neck and occupied herself with the hair at the back of his neck. Ron knew it probably wasn't entirely 'OK'.

"I do want it. I need it. I love you so much," Hermione started. "Are we ready?"

"I know I am," he said softly, slightly afraid of her reaction. He didn't want her to feel like he was pushing her, but he knew that if they didn't move to the next stage soon, he was going to implode with sexual frustration.

"I think I might be, too," she whispered, not quite meeting his gaze. Trying to bite back his enthusiasm, he hooked his finger under her chin so he could look into her eyes. Her deep brown eyes were darker than usual, and he detected fear, lust, and need in them. His probably reflected the same emotions.

"Are you sure?" he asked, desperate to hear only one word from her.

"Yes." Relief and excitement washed over him.

"Thank Merlin," he sighed, less cautious than before. He was pleased to hear her giggle, and he leaned in to kiss her. He deepened the kiss after he felt her tongue playing at his lips, begging for entrance.

This kiss felt different. They were taking a new step, a scary and exciting step they'd each been waiting for for years. This was more urgent, more needy than ever before. It thrilled and excited them both.

They were lost in each other, so much so that they didn't hear Mrs. Weasley enter the kitchen to start supper.

She squealed in excitement, clapping her hands over her mouth. The couple broke apart from each other, dazed. Molly recognized the unfocused look in their eyes, and a little part of her heart healed. "I'm so sorry dears, I was just going to get supper ready…" Her voice drifted off, and her eyes got slightly teary. _Finally._

Both Ron and Hermione were scarlet, and Molly rushed forward to hug them tightly before she shooed them out of the kitchen, watching them as they gladly retreated, still flushed from the kiss and being caught.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Molly felt a rush of pure happiness.

**A/N II: As you can see, they're moving up in their relationship, and so will this story. I think the chapter after next will be rated M. Just to give you guys a nice heads up!!! Hope you stick with me (if you're over 18, that is). ;-)**


	5. Gossip

**A/N: No, their first time was NOT in the kitchen, just in case that's what you're thinking. Thanks to BlackHawk13 for looking this over for me and making sure I don't make idiotic mistakes. ;-) **

**Disclaimer: Don't own HP, though my laptop is a Hewlett-Packard. Haha.**

Hermione was lost deep in thought when Ginny came searching for a mid-afternoon snack. She snagged an orange from the counter and sat at the kitchen table. Hermione didn't even register that Ginny was sitting directly across from her, and Ginny started peeling the orange, waiting for Hermione to snap out of her daze.

Ginny recognized the look in Hermione's eyes, and wasn't sure whether or not to be happy for the bushy haired girl, or dry heave. Hermione was, after all, mooning over Ginny's brother.

Ginny had peeled and eaten half the orange before Hermione's eyes finally focused on the ginger haired girl staring at her amusedly.

"Hi Hermione," Ginny said casually. "Got something on your mind?" Her eyes were full of humor.

"Uh… no, no not really," Hermione said quickly, but the look of guilt and instantaneous blush that covered her cheeks told Ginny otherwise.

"Alright then," Ginny said simply, and continued with her orange. The kitchen now smelled like citrus, and it was crisp from the cold early autumn afternoon.

"Ginny, have you and Harry ever… you know…?" Hermione burst out, then clapped her hands over her own mouth, eyes wide and blush almost completely overtaking her face.

Ginny burst into laughter at her friend's sudden outburst. "No, not yet, why?" She already knew the answer.

"It's just… alright, if I tell you, will you swear not to tell anyone? Not even Harry? I mean it, Ginny, not a soul!"

"Of course," Ginny promised, and leaned towards Hermione. "But don't you think we ought to go to my room to talk about this? I mean, honestly, anyone could just walk in at any moment. High traffic area, this kitchen. Then again… you and Ron find it awfully cozy, from what I've heard…"

"Shut. Up," Hermione seethed through her teeth. She quickly waved her wand about with wordless spells, and cast a silencing charm around the kitchen, and another that would alert them if anyone approached.

"Alright, tell me everything," said Ginny eagerly. She was going to ignore the fact that Ron was the one they were gossiping about.

"Were you really serious? You and Harry haven't had… you know… yet?"

"Hermione, you're the one who's had _sex, _and you still can't say it!"

Hermione's face flushed a shade of red so deep, any Weasley could have been proud of her.

"If you're going to be difficult about it, I'm not going to tell you," she said stiffly, and moved to stand.

"Wait, wait, wait, I'll be good, I promise! Just stay!"

Hermione scooted her chair back to the table, and attempted to compose herself.

"So, was it any good?" Ginny teased lightly.

"Yeah, you could say that…" Hermione said, and smiled to herself. "More than good." Her grin widened as Ginny's eyeballs nearly popped out of her head.

"But… I mean… It's _Ron. _How good could it be?"

"You only say that because he's your brother. Believe me when I say that he…"

"No! No! On second thought, I really don't want to know." Ginny covered her sticky, citrusy hands over her ears and closed her eyes tightly, trying as hard as she could to banish any and all thoughts of her brother as a lover out of her head.

She shuddered violently, and Hermione laughed hysterically.

"I'm sorry Ginny. You asked."

"And now I want to kill myself," Ginny joked. "I can't believe you guys finally… you know…"

"Had _sex?"_ Hermione teased. "I can't either. But it was just… so right. I love him so much, Ginny. I really and truly do. And he loves me, too." Her eyes grew dreamy.

"I figured as much," Ginny said, grinning at her friend. Maybe someday they'd be sisters. She leaned over the table to hug Hermione.

"And now, tell me about what's going on with you and my brother?" Hermione said, eyebrows raised.

"Brother?"

"Yeah, Harry's my brother. Not biologically, obviously… but same difference."

"He's… we're… I'm not sure yet," Ginny gave. She sighed and looked at her hands, covered in orange peel and juices. "He's so stubborn."

"I figured as much," Hermione quipped, and the two girls laughed for a moment.

"He puts a lot of blame on himself. It's hard to get close to him sometimes. I don't want to force him to love me. That's just not right. But if he doesn't get his head out of his arse soon, I swear to Merlin…"

Hermione patted her hand sympathetically. "Give him time," she advised. "He'll see that he can't live without you. Trust me. He's rather thick at times, but I know he'll figure it out sooner or later."

"Better be soon," Ginny said under her breath. Hermione just gave her a soft smile.

"It will be," the older girl encouraged.

A soft humming let the girls know someone was approaching the kitchen. Hermione quickly waved her wand around for the counter-charms, and put her wand away quickly. Ron sauntered into the kitchen, and immediately began poking around for a snack himself.

Ginny watched as Hermione grew scarlet, and instantly began chewing on her bottom lip. She had to stifle a laugh as she watched her friend check out Ron's arse.

"Hi Ginny, Hi 'Mione," he said, and Ginny's eyebrows raised. She'd never heard this nickname for her friend before, and was expecting her to curse him into tomorrow for it, but instead Hermione smiled and merely replied "Hi Ron."

Ron had found Merlin knows what to snack on, and sat next to Hermione at the table's bench. He nudged Hermione gently with his elbow, as if to ask her if Ginny knew, and Ginny volunteered the information herself.

"Ron, it's OK. I know."

"Know? Know what?" he asked suspiciously.

"Lots of things," she said cryptically, and rose from the table. "Talk to you later, Hermione," she said, and walked out of the kitchen. Before she turned the corner, she turned to see Ron whispering frantically to Hermione, who was trying very hard not to laugh. Hermione chose to shut Ron up by unceremoniously kissing him.

Ginny turned away. No need to scar her eyeballs for life.

**A/N II: Just so we're clear, this story is moving up in rating, to M, by next chapter. Hope you stay with me, if the law allows it. ;-)**


	6. Comfort

**A/N: I had every intention of making this a lemon, but in the end, I wasn't up for the task when I was writing this. So, the M rating will come next chapter, more than likely. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story. Thanks to BlackHawk13 for reading this over for me. :-)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own HP. Ever.**

Hermione sighed as she leaned against the counter of the Granger's new flat, taking a slow bite of pudding. It was chocolaty and delicious, but it did nothing to improve her mood.

She was home alone at the moment. She had very reluctantly moved out of the Burrow the day after her parents moved home from Australia. It was harder to bear than she could have ever imagined. She and Ron had been together, year round, day in and day out for what felt like decades, in reality the better part of seven years. Being without him felt like some sort of special torture, far beyond what Bellatrix could ever have inflicted.

It still made her head swim to think of the last seven years, and what had happened. More than growing up, like any other person her age, she had fought a war. And won. The thought still blew her mind, and she was sure that it would take more than a few months, if ever, to fully comprehend it all.

Her parents had gone away for the weekend, to see her grandparents in London. Hermione needed the time alone. It had been a long time… almost too long… since she'd been alone.

But she missed Ron. Her body, her mind, her heart, ached for him. She missed falling asleep in his arms, kissing him, making love with him. She had left the Burrow several weeks ago, and though Ron visited her, and she him, every spare moment they had, their families had to take priority.

She concentrated on the flavor of the chocolate. The smooth, rich texture of it. The heady aroma. Anything to get her mind off of Ron and how badly she needed him at that moment.

She scraped the last few bites of the pudding out of the bowl, savoring each morsel, and turned to wash the dish and spoon in the sink. She scrubbed the bowl slowly, taking her time. Doing things the Muggle way always helped her relax. She concentrated on calming her body as she rinsed the bowl in the dishwater, watching the water flow slowly out of the tap, soaking in the sunlight, which was barely streaming through the kitchen window.

She watched the clouds. The sky was orange and the thin strands of clouds glowed pink. She sighed. When was the last time she'd appreciated a sunset? When had she had the time to?

The memories that bombarded her were too painful to think about. She shut the curtains with a snap and dried the bowl much more quickly. She didn't want to think anymore. It was too much. Tears were threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.

A rapid knock on the front door made her startle. She wasn't expecting anyone, and few people knew her parents were back in town, let alone moved into a new flat. Hermione missed her old bedroom. It would have comforted her more than she would have expected it to.

Hermione hurried to the door, but not before she slipped her wand out of her sleeve, just in case. There were still too many of Voldemort's followers hiding to truly feel safe yet.

"Psst, Hermione! Let me in!"

"Ron? Is that you?"

"Of course it is! Let me in, I'm freezing my bollocks off out here!"

Hermione flung the door open, and Ron stepped in immediately, rubbing his forearms for warmth. "Bloody hell, I'm effing freezing. Why do you have your wand out?"

"Death Eaters," she said.

"Don't you have wards up?"

"Yes, but… you can't be too careful." Hermione said, hands on her hips. "What are you doing here, Ron?"

"I missed you… and your mum and dad aren't here," he said simply. He gave her a sly, half-grin, and she couldn't help but smile at him.

Hermione found herself in his arms in the next moment, and she sighed as he tightened his arms around her, ensuring their bodies were perfectly curved into each other. She buried her face into his chest, inhaling his musky, masculine scent.

"I've missed you so much, love," he whispered. He took one hand to tilt her face towards his, and rubbed the nape of her neck as he pulled her in for a kiss. She returned it, and settled further into his arms.

A moment later, she pulled back, and placed kisses along his jaw. "Can I get you something to eat? I have some leftover pudding if you'd like."

He nodded eagerly, and she led him to the kitchen. "How is everyone at the Burrow? I miss everyone," she said as she began pulling various things out of the cupboard for Ron to eat, knowing Ron would be hungry for more than just pudding.

"All right. Mum's getting better, and she actually laughed last night. Ginny and Harry are almost disgusting to be around now with all their snogging… They're together now, but I'm sure you knew that... And…" He paused, accepting the bowl from Hermione's hands. "George has asked me to work in the shop with him. Just for awhile."

He looked terribly nervous as he told his girlfriend this, and took a huge bite of the chocolate cake to distract himself. He was worried about her reaction, what she'd say.

"So… you won't be coming back to Hogwarts with me?" Her voice was sad, and she instantly hated herself for her selfish reaction.

"Uh, I guess so. You know me, Hermione… I'm rubbish at school, without you, that is, and George really needs me…"

Hermione put her fingers to his lips, silencing him.

"Ron, it's alright. I understand. You're right, George needs you. I can't be selfish and ask you to come with me. It's only one school year. It'll be over before we know it. And then…"

Her voice drifted off, not wanting to give away too much, to scare Ron about her thoughts on the future. They were still young, still new in their relationship, and it was far too soon to be making plans.

She cleared her throat, and continued. "I think it's wonderful you want to help George."

"Yeah, well…" Ron blushed.

She held out her arms to him, and he stared at her for a moment, confused.

"A hug, Ronald."

"Right," he said, setting down the bowl and gathering her up into his arms. He buried his face in her wild hair, relaxing as he took in her familiar fragrance, the perfume he'd given her for Christmas fifth year. "So it's OK?"

She smiled, though he couldn't see it. "Ron, you don't have to have my permission. I think it's wonderful of you. I'm just going to miss you. I had hoped we'd go back together. But I understand." She smiled again, hoping he wouldn't see the traitorous tears that glinted in her eyes.

"I love you so much, Hermione."

"I love you, too, Ron. Too much," she replied softly.

He tilted her head back to capture her mouth in a kiss. Hermione's heart pounded with the sensations his lips brought her, and the wash of pain she still felt. She clung to him, weak with emotion and need.

Ron sensed her distress and pulled away. "What's the matter, Hermione?"

"Ron, I need you. Just… make me forget things. Before you came here, I couldn't stop thinking about everything… it's too much. I need you, I want you."

"Hermione…"

"Don't say anything, Ron," she said huskily. She pulled him to her, and kissed him deeply until they were both breathless. Her body relaxed as she forgot everything that had plagued her mind previously. Everything was Ron. He was all she could feel, taste.

Before long, they were both lost in each other, and the rest of the world had truly melted away. Need of comfort was replaced by need for skin against skin, and before either one knew it Ron was dragging Hermione upstairs towards her bedroom, desperate for each other.


	7. More

**A/N: Thanks to BlackHawk13 for looking this over for me.**

**Ready for some lemons?? ;-) Told you they were cumming... errr.... coming...**

**Disclaimer: Don't own HP. Never have, never will.**

Ron eagerly sucked on the apex of Hermione's shoulder and neck, making her moan in approval. He was working on a love bite. Everyone at Hogwarts would know she belonged to him. _Mine, _he thought, as he nipped at her neck, feeling her melt further into his arms.

Hermione knew exactly what he was doing, and why, and though she hated his jealousy and possessiveness on principle, she had to admit she found it more than a little sexy. She would hide it with a concealment charm later, and no one would be the wiser, but she would know it was there, and that's all that mattered.

He currently had her pinned against the counter of George's flat, which Ron had just moved into the week before, in order to help in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. George was at the Burrow, having dinner with the family, after having been kicked out of the flat by his younger brother at wand point.

Hermione was leaving for Hogwarts in two days, and Ron was not about to let any potential alone time with her slip by. The idea of being apart from her for an entire school year was more and more depressing as time went on.

But for now, they were together, and they both planned on making the moment last as long as possible. Give each other something to remember each other by during the long, lonely nights of their separation.

Ron lifted his lips from Hermione's neck, almost entirely satisfied with his work. The particular spot he had chosen to work on was Hermione's favorite, and her knickers were more than a little wet. She bucked her hips into his, in need of friction.

He hissed as she brushed against his erection, which was growing stronger and harder with each passing second. "Her…mione…" he gasped, fighting hard not to cum straight away.

He was about to lean in to kiss her moist and ready lips, when his stomach growled angrily.

Hermione burst into laughter. "Still hungry, Ronald? I guess we did come in here to get you some food… You're a horrible distraction to me."

Ron grinned sheepishly, but he was actually extremely pleased with himself for managing to distract his famously determined girlfriend from her original goal. It wasn't a common occurrence.

"Let's get some food, love," she said, and tried to extract herself from his arms. He reluctantly let go, and followed close behind her to see what she would make. She pulled the ingredients together for a ham sandwich, and Ron kissed her shoulder as he stood directly behind her, hands firmly placed on the soft curves of her hips.

"Ron, are you going to distract me some more, or do you want to eat?"

His stomach gave another angry growl.

"Fine, I'll eat," he said reluctantly, and began making his own sandwich.

They ate at the kitchen table in silence, not wanting to waste time. The sooner they finished eating their sandwiches, the faster they could get back to devouring each other.

Hermione surprised Ron by being so eager that she whipped his plate out from in front of him, vanishing the crusts, and practically tossing their plates in the sink. He stared at her, chewing his last mouthful of ham and bread as he watched her coyly lean against the sink and give him a very blatant _come hither _look.

Ron swallowed hard, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. He couldn't take his eyes of Hermione's lips. They were pink and slightly parted, and looked like they were more than willing to catch his kiss at his own convenience.

He stood, nearly knocking the chair over, and quickly reached out to catch it before it clattered to the floor. Hermione bit her lip to hide a laugh. She held her arms out to him.

This time, when they held each other, both knew they wouldn't be letting go any time soon. Hermione's knees buckled as their mouths met again and again, each kiss growing more and more passionate and desperate.

Ron's hands wandered all over Hermione's soft body. His hands itched to inch under her clothes, so he brought his hands under her shirt to revel in the smooth expanse of skin on her back. His fingers brushed against the clasp of her bra, and she leaned into him, practically begging him to remove it.

She nibbled on his neck when he concentrated on the bizarre metal clasps. He still had difficulty with the strange enclosure which kept her glorious breasts from his easy access. He frowned as his fingers clumsily grasped with the lacy fabric and hooks.

"Hermione, I need-"

She heard the frustration in his voice and fought very hard not to laugh. She pulled away from him, throwing her shirt off first, then reaching behind her, unclasping the bra in less than five seconds flat.

Ron's eyes widened in lust and reverence as her breasts bounced free of their restraints. Ron stroked her nipples with his rough thumbs, and Hermione moaned as they hardened under his touch. The sound went straight to his erection, which had come back in full force the second he felt her silky skin.

Hermione stood before him, topless and blushing, and impatient for his hands to run all over her. She wanted to feel skin against skin, and so she tugged his shirt up over his head, and ran her fingers over his pale, freckled stomach. She admired the bulge in his denims, knowing exactly the pleasure it would bring to her.

Their first time had been fumbling and awkward, but every time got better and better, and any form of shyness or awkwardness had disappeared.

Hermione flung her arms around his neck, and pulled him into a deep kiss. They moaned as he felt her breasts press against him, and she mewled as he bit at her neck, and ran his hands along her sides, brushing the sides of her breasts.

Their hands were flying everywhere, their lips attaching together then flitting to another body part to latch on to.

Hermione tugged on Ron's belt, trying to loosen it, but found it nearly as challenging as Ron found her bra. He pulled his lips from her nipple to see what her dilemma was, and gave her a half grin when he realized what she was working on.

Ron and Hermione parted for a moment, only to pull off their own trousers and shoes, kicking them aside. They both groaned when they were both finally naked, and pressed together. Hermione felt Ron's prominent erection against her stomach, and she reached between them to grasp it firmly in her small hand.

Ron's eyes threatened to roll into the back of his head as she stroked his length, paying special attention to the head. He bucked his hips towards her. She somehow always knew exactly how to touch him in a way that made him lose almost complete control.

She leaned against the counter, and hitched herself higher against his body as he pulled himself closer to her. He could feel her wetness against his cock, which was now closer than ever to her center, where he ached to be, and where she was dying to feel him. She ground herself against his length, and they both groaned at the friction.

Ron was suddenly nervous. They'd never made love this way before. It had always been in secret, in his bedroom or hers, locked away and hidden behind silencing charms. This… was spontaneous, it was free, it was liberating… it was sexy as hell.

He buried his face in her neck for a moment, trying to grasp onto what little self control he had left. The way she was moving her hips against his was not helping anything. She was dripping wet and dying to feel him deep inside her.

"Hermione, I… I need…"

"I know, I know! Me too."

They kissed again, tongues dancing together, and Hermione moaned into Ron's mouth as she felt his tip brush against her center.

She hopped up a little, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Knowing they both couldn't wait any more, he cautiously eased himself into her wetness, groaning as he felt how tight she felt in this position. It took everything he had in him not to cum straight away.

Hermione whimpered as he filled her. She felt a sharp pain in her back as he leaned her roughly against the counter and began to pound inside her, but the pain only made the pleasure more intense, more real. She grasped him by the shoulders, and dug her feet into his arse, begging for more, whispered "Harder" and "Faster" into his ear.

Before either knew it, they were cumming together, screaming out each other's names in pure joy and ecstasy.

Hermione slowly eased her legs from around Ron's waist, and he gently lowered her to the floor. Her legs were wobbly and he was exhausted and leaned limply against her. She snuggled her head into his chest, as he buried his face in her brown, crazy hair.

They stayed in this embrace of sorts for a few minutes, until their heart beats calmed down enough, and Ron placed several tiny kisses up and down the column of Hermione's neck. He stopped for a moment to appreciate his handiwork of her love bite.

"Don't go to Hogwarts," he said mournfully. He cupped her face in his hands, looking deeply into her eyes, silently begging her to stay. "I need you."

A sob quickly surfaced and escaped Hermione's throat. "I have to, Ron. I don't want to leave you. But we both have things we have to do, and then… well, we can be together again. Besides, I talked to Professor McGonagall, and she said you'd be able to visit me on Hogsmeade weekends… and maybe for the Yule Ball."

Ron groaned. "The Yule Ball! Hermione, bloody hell, you may as well torture me now."

She raised her eyebrows at him, and crossed her arms in a huff.

Ron was momentarily distracted by the sight of her round, naked breasts, being pushed up and together in a very appealing way.

"I promise it won't be like last time," she said soothingly, brushing his hair out of his eyes, prompting him to look up at her face again. "That is, if you don't wait until the last moment to ask me."

"Hermione, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" he asked eagerly, and the hopeful look on his face made her burst into laughter, nodding. He greedily kissed her, and they both moaned as they fell into another round of love making, this time on the kitchen table.

"We're going to have to clean this up or George'll kill me," Ron said afterwards, noting the mess they had made by tossing things out of their way.

"And we can't have that, now can we?" Hermione said, and lazily flicked her wand, instantly tidying up the kitchen to it's right state.

"How'd you learn that?" Ron asked, impressed as usual.

She shrugged. "It was easy. And now, I'm going to teach you something that I learned from browsing the Restricted Section…"


	8. Insecurities

**Disclaimer: The only HP things I own are books, DVDs, and a Chudley Cannons T-shirt. Not the whole she-bang.**

Ron sat at the table of the flat he shared with George, and sighed deeply. He kept poking at his toast, which was a clear sign to everyone who knew Ron that something was wrong.

He rested his head in his hand, picking apart the bread crust, looking but not really seeing, what he was doing.

Hermione would be home soon for the Christmas holidays. He was excited beyond belief… but he was terrified that he wouldn't be good enough for her anymore. After all, he had essentially dropped out of school, and she was just getting smarter and smarter. Not that he expected any less from her. He was proud of his genius girlfriend.

Still, he couldn't help but feel her inferior. Once again.

George strolled into the kitchen, whistling. His pleasant mood annoyed Ron infinitely.

"Hello, little brother," he said, and stuck his head in the cupboards, looking for things to eat. Ron scowled at his back. "How are you on this fine morning?"

Ron grumbled something unintelligible, and George turned around to study his younger brother's face. Clearly, something was upsetting him.

"Tell Georgie what's on your mind," he teased.

"Eff off, George."

"My, my, what attitude. What's got you down? I hear a young Miss Granger is coming home soon for hols. What could be wrong with that?"

Ron shot him a pained look. "I'm not good enough for her, George." His tone was mournful.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's so bloody smart. And I'm a nobody. I mean, I work in a bloody joke shop. That's what I am. A joke. She's way too good for me."

"OK, I'm going to ignore your unjustified attack on _our _shop, and go straight to the crux of the problem. For some bizarre reason unknown to me, she wants you. _You, _Ron. She's known you long enough to know what a git you are, and she still likes you. Still _loves you. _And she's always going to be bloody smarter than you. So don't be an arse."

Ron cursed at George under his breath, but knew that he was right. Hermione was the smartest witch, well, ever, and that was one of the reasons he loved her so much.

And had she ever given him reason to doubt her feelings for him since she went back to Hogwarts? No, he acknowledged. They talked as often as possible, mainly through the Floo Network McGonagall allowed Hermione to open to keep in contact with her "parents." Hermione split the time between catching up with her parents, and talking to Ron. They also sent owls to each other nearly every day.

Ron loved every time he opened a letter and saw Hermione's neat, tidy scrawl. She would always tell him what she was doing in her classes, how her Head Girl duties were going, and how much she missed him and loved him.

Once, he was lucky enough to get a letter from her that detailed a very naughty dream in which they were together again.

His ears burned scarlet at the memory. It had taken several cold showers, and finally a desperate wank to get those images out of his head, and it seemed as though he'd need another to recover.

George looked at Ron in fascination. He could pretty much read each thought going through Ron's thick skull at every passing moment. At the moment, George could see that Ron was justifying himself as a man… a man who was good enough for Hermione Granger.

In the next moment, an owl swooped down and landed on the outside of the kitchen window. George got up to let it in, and it flew directly to Ron and held its leg out expectantly. Ron untied the letter from the owls leg.

He opened the letter in haste, and relaxed when he saw Hermione's tiny print.

_Dear Ron,_

_I'm coming home tomorrow! McGonagall released me from my Head Girl duties a bit early- something about needing to reconnect with my parents. But that also means that I can see you earlier than expected. I can't wait to see your family… and you, most of all. I've missed you so much. I can't wait to be in your arms again._

_Love always, Hermione._

George watched as the excitement spread across Ron's face.

"Good news, I take it?"

Ron merely grinned and nodded. George fought the urge to laugh. It was so easy to make Ron happy sometimes. A little food, a little sleep, a little Hermione… The man had simple needs, and it seemed like all of those needs were about to be met.

Ron jumped up to grab some parchment and a quill, and wrote back a quick response. His hand moved so quickly across the paper, little splashes of ink flew everywhere, including on his maroon Weasley sweater. He ignored this, and rolled up the parchment and tied it back to the owl's leg, telling it where to go. After feeding it a few treats, the owl ruffled its feathers and flew back out the open window.

He had a dreamy look on his face, and again, George had to fight with himself to stop laughing.

"Good letter?" he asked, smirking.

"Yeah. Very good. Hermione's going to be home tomorrow. I have to go get ready."

George watched in disbelief and amusement as Ron ran to his bedroom, slamming the door hard behind him. George could hear him muttering to himself about getting a haircut, and which shirt he should wear the next day.

_Git's gone over the deep end, _George thought, but he smiled nevertheless, and continued his search for something to eat.


	9. Inhibitions

**A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update!!! My computer decided to get a virus, but it's all up and in working order now, so I'm back!!! :-) Thanks to BlackHawk13 for looking this over for me. And, I know that cookies in England are called "biscuits"... but I left it this way cuz it sounds nicer somehow. I know, I'm a damn Yank for doing it. You'll have to just forgive me. :-)**

**Disclaimer: I only lived in the UK for 5 months, and therefore I cannot be J.K.**

Hermione lifted a tray of piping hot Christmas cookies from the oven. The sugary smell reminded her of her own childhood, back before she knew she was a witch, before she got her life changing letter from Hogwarts. This Christmas Eve, she was at the Burrow, and tomorrow she'd be home with her parents.

It felt wonderful to be home. Hogwarts just wasn't the same without Harry and Ron… most specifically Ron. Hermione, truth be told, did not miss the constant adventures with her two best friends. She loved the times where she could research for fun, read for pleasure, and write simply because she had homework due next week. She didn't miss the danger, the rule-breaking, the constant fear of death. That, she could always do without.

She did, however, miss spending time with them. The nights they'd play chess and she'd scold them for not finishing their homework. The rare times when they'd get to relax and not be "The Golden Trio," but simply friends who cared deeply for each other.

And she missed Ron more than she cared to admit (to anyone other than herself). She hadn't realized how much she needed him when he wasn't there every day. They'd been by each other's side for the better part of seven years, and now it was difficult to be apart, even if it was voluntary.

It was Christmas Eve morning, well before most others were awake. Hermione had needed the time alone to think, and to make the treats for the Weasley family.

"Whatcha thinking about, love?" asked Ron, wrapping his arm around her waist. Hermione gave a tiny yelp of surprise, but sunk back into his arms when he began nuzzling her neck.

"You've been staring at that tray for a long time. Are you expecting them to jump up and do a dance for you?" Ron looked extremely amused.

"Hush you," she said, blushing. "I was just thinking… about us. How much I've missed you." She leaned forward and brushed a kiss against his lips. "And why are you awake so early?"

"I've missed you, too," he admitted. "George has been driving me barmy the last few months. That weekend at Hogsmeade was not enough, love. And I'm awake because I don't like sleeping without you in my arms. It feels wrong somehow, especially when I know you're just a room away."

"Mmm, I agree," Hermione murmured, turning in the circle of Ron's arms until she was facing him. "I wish we could sneak away right now. Too bad Harry's asleep in your room and I share a room with Ginny…"

She reached between them and cupped Ron through his trousers, causing him to gasp in shock and instant desire.

"Hermione!"

She had to laugh, his expression was a mixture of disbelief and need, his eyes bugging nearly out of his head. Hermione nipped at his bottom lip, then turned to remove the cookies from the tray.

Ron was having none of that. Hermione couldn't see the devilish look on his face, but if she had been able to, she would have shrunk against the counter nervously.

He stood closely behind her, his mouth hovering close to her ear, her round arse close to his clothed erection. Ron had never been so grateful that Hermione was wearing a skirt in his life.

Hermione noted that her boyfriend had moved more closely to her, but she ignored him, thinking she was teasing him, wanting to drive him crazy for her until he cracked and dragged her upstairs to his room, Harry or no Harry.

The cookies were nearly all off the tray when she felt Ron's hands, slightly cold in contrast with the warm kitchen, meandering on the backs of her thighs.

"Ronald, what are you doing?" she demanded, but Ron didn't respond. Instead, his hands moved up and down the soft and smooth skin of her thighs, dangerously close to her arse and knickers.

He began nibbling on her neck, right at the spot beneath her ear that drove her mad with desire. She bit her lip and threw her head back, eyes tightly closed, encouraging his ministrations on her neck. It felt good, much too good, to make him stop.

"Ohh, Ron," she moaned. Her knees were incredibly close to buckling when his fingers slipped beneath her knickers and brushed against her clit.

"OH!" Hermione's eyes flew open in shock, and was torn between pulling away, for fear of being caught by his family, and thrusting her hips back so he would continue the wonderful sensations.

"Relax, Hermione. No one will know we're here. I've cast charms to protect us. I just want to make you feel good. Let me make you feel good."

She moaned and involuntarily bucked her hips towards his hand.

Moments later, Ron's long fingers were plunging deep inside her slick core, his thumb circling her clit at the same time. Hermione was gripping the spatula in her hand with a vice-like grip, panting and gasping with each tiny movement of Ron's hand.

"So… good…" she gasped out, finding herself close to the edge faster than she would ever expect. There was just something about fooling around with Ron in the Burrow's kitchen… with his family just a room away…

It only took Ron a few more thrusts with his hand before Hermione was crying out and her inner muscles milked his fingers with her release. Ron kissed her, swallowing most of her cries. He loved how he could make her fall apart. It made him feel masculine and strong.

"Oh, Ron," she sighed, kissing him all over his face. She groaned as he pulled his fingers from her core, making sure her knickers were covering her once again. Her inhibitions were down, but he knew that soon… too soon, she'd feel embarrassed for being reckless in the kitchen, when anyone could walk in at any moment.

He sucked her sweet juices from his fingers, and she blushed furiously. "Ronald!"

"You taste good, my love."

"I can't believe I just let you do that." She turned back towards the tray of cookies, knees still shaky and heart pounding in her chest.

"You know you love it."

"I did… which worries me."

Ron hugged her from behind again, biting on her ear lightly. She shivered in his arms.

"I'm just not used to losing my inhibitions like that…"

"I liked it. Very sexy. I suggest you lose your inhibitions more often." He kissed up and down her neck until she forgot where she was, or even who she was. Ron was the only one who could ever do this. He was the only one who relaxed her, made her lose control.

And he was right, she did love it.

Moments later, the charms Ron had set up around the kitchen walls began to hum, signaling someone approaching. He flicked his wand out of his pocket, and muttered the counter charm.

Mrs. Weasley came bustling into the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, looking ready to make a meal fit for the more than dozen guests who would be seated at her table.

"Good morning, Ron, Hermione," she said with a smile. She was pleased her son and the girl she considered her daughter looked so happy together. In fact, Hermione's cheeks had never looked rosier…

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, still a brilliant shade of red, much like Ron's ears. "Do you need any help?"

"No dear, not right now. Later, I'll need some helpful hands, though, so stay close. And Ron, Hermione? Make sure George doesn't go overboard with the mistletoe. Last Christmas, he and Fred had so many sprigs of it around the house you couldn't walk five feet without getting stuck under it, waiting for a kiss."

She smiled at the memory. It hurt to think of Fred, especially at this time, but she had resolved herself to remember the many good memories of him, as often as possible. Fred would have wanted it.

"We will," Hermione promised. "That would be rather inconvenient."

Ron grinned at her, and Molly noted Hermione's telltale blush. _Oh, to be young again,_ Molly thought to herself. She knew full well what was going on with those two, and remembered her own youth, with an equally young Arthur, and therefore couldn't find it in her to be upset.

Celebrate life, now more than ever, Molly thought to herself.

"Hermione, did you make cookies?"

"Yes. I used my mother's recipe."

"They look and smell delicious. Thank you, my dear."

"So… Hermione… what do you say we go look for that mistletoe?" Ron asked suggestively. Hermione's face lit up with embarrassment, but she nodded her head, and he practically dragged her out of the kitchen, up the stairs.

Molly smiled at their retreating backs, and faced the huge task at hand for feeding a small army this Christmas Eve.


	10. Perfection

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update!!! RL and my Twi-fics got in the way, but here it is. It's a bit short, but it conveyed what I wanted it to in a short amount of time so... that's that. **

**This is dedicated to BlackHawk13, who I feel needs something dedicated to him right about now. Feel better luv!!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP. Drat.**

"What does that lousy git want now?" Ron asked grumpily. He crossed his arms in defiance, and frowned in Hermione's general direction, but specifically at the letter she held in her hands.

"Ronald, I really wish you would stop with your childish jealousy. You _know _Viktor and I are just friends, and if he wants to write me a letter, then far be it for me to stop him."

"I _know _you're just friends. I just don't like him, that's all. And I don't see why he has to write once a week. What could he possibly be telling you that's so important?"

Hermione sighed, and tried to reign in her annoyance at Ron's incessant jealousy. It had always been completely unfounded, and she couldn't believe that even after everything they'd been through together, he'd believe that Viktor would ever be a threat in any form.

"In this letter," she said slowly, "he's telling me about his girlfriend, and how much he cares for her, and he's asking me advice of how to court her. She seems like a lovely woman."

"Oh," Ron said, and looked down at his hands. "That's fine."

"What _is _your problem, Ron? Viktor has never done a thing to you."

Hermione crossed her arms and stared down at her boyfriend. He looked so unhappy, and even though she was annoyed with him, she hated to see him look that way.

"He got you first," he blurted out.

"What?" she whispered. She slid her dining room chair closer to Ron until their bodies were brushing against each other.

"He- he was your first."

"Excuse me?! You were, Ron, you were there… I'd think you would've remembered… Viktor and I _never-"_

"I didn't mean _that," _he said. "He was your first date. Your first kiss. I always wanted it to be me… and he beat me to it."

"Ron," she whispered, covering his large hands with her tiny ones. "I'm so sorry."

He shrugged in an attempt to look nonchalant, but they both knew better. "S'ok," he muttered.

"I love you, you know that, right? I'm sorry about everything that happened in the past, the things that kept us apart. But you know what?"

"What?" he asked miserably, still not looking at her.

"I wouldn't trade anything that happened in the past."

"Are you mental? So many horrible things… You can't be serious."

"But I am." Hermione sighed deeply. "Ron, it wasn't a walk in the park, and no one ever expected it to be. And we didn't make things easier for each other, with our bickering and fighting. With Viktor and Lavender. With every row that pushed us further away from each other when we needed each other more than ever. We lost good people, too many and much too soon. And we had to deal with it all so young, barely children fighting for their lives. We had to grow up so fast"

"We had to."

"Yes, we did. And every single thing just made us more perfect for each other. Every fight, every mistake, every time we had to fight for our lives. If we hadn't survived that… I'm not sure _we _would have survived it, if we had been together back then. We weren't ready. But we're ready now." She kissed his throat when she was finished.

Ron finally looked up at her. "You think we're perfect for each other?"

"You daft boy! Of course I do. I have for quite awhile."

He turned to cup her face in his hands. He brushed her cheeks with his thumbs, pleased to see her flush lightly under his touch. He looked into her eyes, accessing her sincerity, and found nothing in her shining eyes but love and honesty.

Hermione's breathing picked up as Ron continued to explore her face with his hands and eyes. He was so tender, brushing his thumb against her lips, making them part with a sigh. He began placing kisses all over her face, starting with one at the corner of her mouth, and moving over her face until every inch had been covered with a kiss.

"Kiss me, Ron," she begged, unable to take it anymore.

"I thought that's what I had been doing," he said with a smirk.

"You know what I mean," she moaned, and leaned towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You know I can never tell you no," he murmured, and closed the gap between them.

It felt like hours before they finally parted for air. Somehow, Hermione had ended up in Ron's chair, straddling his lap, their bodies practically fused together.

"We're perfect for each other," he whispered, playing with a strand of her wild hair. "There's no one else for me, and there's no one else for you."

"You're it," she moaned back. "I love you." She fused her mouth back to his, running her tongue along his bottom lip, asking for access once more. He granted it, and they kissed deeply, intimately, lovingly. His hands wandered down her sides, resting on her hips, and he dug his fingers into her.

"Love you so much," he groaned between kisses.

"Come upstairs with me," Hermione said after sucking in a ragged breath. Ron nipped at her neck, and she arched into him more fully. "Please, I need you."

Ron didn't say anything, and instead scooped Hermione up into his arms, and carried her upstairs where they proceeded to show each other just how perfect they truly were for each other.


	11. Domestic

**A/N: I'm really losing steam with this story, and you can probably tell with this chapter. I think I'm going to wrap it up after another chapter or two. I've just lost my enthusiasm. I love Ron and Hermione, and I want to do them justice. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP. Aww, shucks.**

"I don't think we're ever going to find it," Ron groaned.

"Stop being so negative, Ron. Finding a flat is never easy for anyone."

"We've been to _thousands, _and I'm hungry," he said grumpily.

Hermione sighed. No matter how much she loved Ron, she hated when he slipped into one of his moods. _Just like a child, _she thought to herself.

"If you're going to be difficult about this, I'm not going to move in with you, Ron. I will simply refuse."

He paused. "Don't say that, Hermione. I need you."

Ron moved to kiss her neck, but she shied away from him, still angry with his little tantrums.

"Ron, you need to stop being so infantile. I'm sorry that this is taking so long, but you need to be an adult about it and stop complaining!" Hermione's face was red with anger. Ron loved that look on her face, though he hated it when it was directed at her.

They had grown past the heated rows of their youth, but they still knew how to fight. Most of the time, it just led to hot makeup sex, but there were times where Hermione caved into silence, and Ron got nothing more than her cold shoulder.

He prayed this was the former, rather than the latter.

"This is the last one we're looking at today," she said, yanking the heavy door open to the flat. It was an "open house" in a flat in Muggle London, not too far from Diagon Alley, and Hermione walked up the stairs without waiting for Ron to catch up with her.

She paused at the top of the stairs, causing Ron to slam into the back of her. They both stared openly.

It was small, but clean, and was probably best described as "cozy." It had one bedroom and a tiny bathroom which had a bathtub with clawed feet, and a small living room and kitchen. The walls were painted a soft cream, a blank canvas for them to make the space their own. The view outside the windows wasn't spectacular, but it showcased the small neighborhood in all the best ways; the curry takeaway on the corner, a grocers, and a welcoming, busy pub.

It was tiny, but it was bright, and both Ron and Hermione could see themselves making a home there.

Anger melted away, Hermione turned to face Ron. "What do you think?" she asked breathlessly. Her eyes were bright with excitement.

Ron's expression matched hers. "I think this is it," he said, looking around and imagining all the different places he and Hermione could christen the place at, once they got furniture. Or before…

He dragged her into the kitchen, and leaned her against the island.

"We need to live here," he said, "so I can fuck you against this counter."

Hermione moaned and writhed against Ron's body, hard and strong against hers. He began nipping at her neck, in all the right places that made her ache with need for him. She loved it when Ron talked dirty.

"Is that what you want, Hermione?" Ron whispered huskily in her ear. "Does that make you hot, thinking about me fucking you hard against this island? Against the wall? In our bed?"

Hermione whimpered in agreement, and pulled Ron in for a firm kiss.

"Our bed… sounds nice," she said after they broke apart for air. Her head was spinning with the intensity of their kisses and the promise of the life they'd soon share together.

"Let's go make an offer before someone else does," she said, sliding off the counter and away from Ron's body. She wanted to christen the kitchen as much as he did, but she wanted to make sure it was officially theirs before they did so. Ron groaned.

"Hermione, I wanted to…"

She put her fingers to his lips to quiet him. "Patience, my love. Soon enough."

He groaned. "You know I have no patience."

"Tough," she teased. "Come on, love. Let's make this our home."


	12. Peace

**A/N: So, this is officially the last chapter, because I don't want to ruin this fic. I hope you all enjoyed this, thanks to everyone who has reviewed and given me their input. **

**Disclaimer: For the last time, I don't own HP!!!**

"RON! Rose! Hugo! Hurry up, we don't want to be late!" Hermione stood in the kitchen, impatient. They were all going to be tardy to the Weasley family's Sunday supper if they didn't hurry. She hated that she seemed to be the only one in this family with a sense of time. Rose may have inherited her brains, but she certainly had inherited her father's gift of belatedness, to say nothing of Hugo.

"Mummy, I can't find my H jumper," Hugo complained, running down the stairs. "I think Rose nicked it."

"What would I want your manky old jumper for anyway?" Rose whined, close behind. Her hair was just as wild as Hermione's had been growing up, and Hermione affectionately smoothed down her hair in the back.

"I don't know, but you took it," he grumbled. His Weasley ears flashed red with anger as he crossed his arms.

"Rose, Hugo, stop fighting," Hermione scolded. "And where is your father?"

"I don't know," Rose said unhelpfully, and Hugo shrugged as well.

Moments later, Ron slipped into the kitchen. Hermione was holding the flower pot full of Floo powder, looking as harried and out of control as all those nights back in Hogwarts when she was busy studying for her O.W.L.s.

"Ronald, come on, we're going to be late!" she scolded him, much like she had the children. She hated to be late anywhere, and still couldn't figure out why Ron didn't know that about her after all these years.

"Alright, 'Mione, alright," he groaned. She nagged nearly as his mum, always had. "I don't see why we always have to go to the Burrow for Sunday supper…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because we need to spend time with your family, Ronald! They miss us. We don't spend nearly as much time with them as we ought to, and besides, Harry and Ginny will be there. Rose and Hugo need to spend time with their cousins."

"Yeah!" Rose chimed in. "I need to tell Lily a secret," she said mysteriously. Hugo just rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, let's _go," _he said, clearly exasperated, and grabbed a handful of Floo powder in his small fist. "The Burrow!" he said loudly and clearly, having heard his Uncle Harry's story about his misadventures into Knockturn Alley one time too many. He disappeared in a swirl of green flames, and Rose repeated the process moments later.

Ron and Hermione were alone, something Ron took advantage of. These moments were far and few between lately, and though Rose would soon be leaving for her first year at Hogwarts, Hugo was sure to be attached at the hip with them until it was his turn to take a ride on the Hogwarts Express.

Ron swept Hermione into his arms before she could grab her fistful of Floo powder, crushing his lips to hers.

"Mmm, what was that?" she asked, looking puzzled. "We have to go-"

He frowned at her. "Are you complaining that I kissed you?"

"Well no, it's just they're waiting…"

"Let them wait," he said, still holding on to her tight. "I want a few moments to be with my beautiful wife."

Hermione blushed slightly. "When did you become so romantic?"

"If you haven't noticed, I have my moments from time to time," he smirked. "The good old fashioned Weasley charm."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Right," she drawled out.

"No, no, it's true. I've had you wrapped around my finger for a good long time."

"You weren't so cocky back then," she laughed. "Look what time has done to you." She traced his jaw, loving the rough stubble she felt beneath her fingers. Ron had matured, his body hardened with age and his job as an Auror. He had never looked more handsome to her as he did now, the father of her children, her perpetual friend and lover, and the best husband anyone could ever ask for, even when he frustrated her to no end.

He explored her body, too, loving her curves, and kissing her deeply.

"OK, now we really need to go," she said after a long moment. "Your parents are going to think that we're shagging."

"Would that really be so horrible?" he teased.

"No, but we can leave that for later," she said. "Come ON!"

They each picked up a handful of powder, Hermione going first.

The Burrow was full of Weasleys and Potters, everyone warm, and happy, and well fed. This was how it was always supposed to be, together as a unit, strong, happy, and together. Despite all his complaining about not wanting to be here, Ron was happy. He looked around the kitchen and was content, not for the first time in his life, though it was a sensation he never took for granted. Hermione slipped her hand in his under the table and squeezed gently.

They'd all finally found peace in life.


End file.
